Thursday, March 13, 2014
I knew this girl once, like a sister. She knew exactly how to get under my skin, to make me feel inferior, disguised with a friendly, helpful mask. She was the person I had when I had no one else. At the pit of my divorce, when friends were scarce and family was far, I turned to she-who-had-ultimately-betrayed-me because no one else was around. I looked past the whining and the irritation and, time after time, I looked past her multiple betrayals because I just needed someone. When I gained the confidence to stand up for myself, I set myself apart from the friendship, if that's what you could call it. I told her it was time for us to part ways, and despite her begging, I told her the relationship was hurting me too much for it to continue. Once I separated myself from her, I felt like I was finally able to breathe. My esteem soared and I realized that all that time, she had dragged me through the mud to make herself feel only better. Months have passed since we last spoke, and all in all, I am a much happier, more positive person. So why do I still miss her?
Scribbled by Hilary at 8:53 PM